


See No Evil

by Ceredwen



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Voyeurism, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-08
Updated: 2010-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-09 09:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceredwen/pseuds/Ceredwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regulus sees something he really doesn't want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See No Evil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whitmans_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=whitmans_kiss).



> Written for whitsmans_kiss my steadfast beta for Christmas 2009. Thank you to brighty18 for the beta. Written in the allinplaid rp-verse but it should be easy enough to follow.

He's turned his room inside out looking for the pad of sketches that travels to school and back every holiday. It was in his upstairs bedroom resting innocently on his desk before Sirius arrived, and now it is gone. There are more problems with this scenario than Regulus simply having his sketchbook taken. The problem lies in what was in the sketchbook. The drawing was his way of coming to terms with the death of Dana Koff. The pet mouse Dana had wept over, lifeless under a dark sky would surely prompt his brother to question the meaning of it. Sirius was infuriatingly clever for someone so dumb. If Sirius made the connection between the dead mouse and the mark on his arm…

Well, frankly, Regulus doesn’t want to find out. Sirius may be a lot of things, but he takes his older brother at his word that he’d “…kick your skinny arse up one side of Britain and down the other…” if he ever discovered that Regulus wore the Dark Mark. He doesn't consider that between the death of the mouse, and the mark on his arm there are at least fifteen degrees of separation to occlude the truth. Instead he panics, because in his mind there is no separation between the mouse, Dana and the mark on his arm. All three had taken place on the same night, all horrific and unwanted, with her blood on his hands. Immortalizing the mouse in art had been his way of asking for forgiveness. The choice had been between Dana or himself, and for a Slytherin, that is no choice at all.

It was clear to Regulus what he must do. He must steal his sketchbook back.

He knows his brother well enough that it was unlikely he had taken the book for any reason other than to get under Regulus' skin. Sirius has an unholy fascination with irritating him. The problem, though, is with Lupin, a fellow artist. Where Sirius is clearly an imbecile, Lupin is not. If Lupin looks at the book, and asks Sirius what the dead mouse means, that might get the cogs in Sirius' brain to start turning. That cannot end well for Regulus.

He looks over at Barty, sleeping peacefully, finally, after Regulus resorted to drugging him. Well, perhaps 'resorted' is the wrong word. Regulus drugs Barty all the time. Nevertheless, Barty is passed out, and will remain so for some time. Regulus snatches up Barty's tatty old invisibility cloak and heads for the drawing room fireplace that shares a connection with his brother’s town home. He throws some powder in, and after a short spin, steps out into Sirius' sitting room.

Crooning out the lyrics to a familiar standard, Sirius' turntable fills the room with the sound of romance. Regulus rolls his eyes; at least his brother is occupied. He looks around the sitting room, but can't find what he's looking for. The dining room is next and then the kitchen. Nothing.

He hears voices floating down from the hallway, and the bedroom that Sirius shares with Lupin. Regulus takes a moment to contemplate his shoes, and wonder if his timing was bad bordering on disastrous. Perhaps he should return home and try again later. Surely they would leave the house sometime, or fall asleep. But then there is the sound of the elf Lolly muttering from the sitting room. He hears her pass into the dining room on her way to the kitchen and instinctively, Regulus bolts.

His feet carry him down the hallway where the quiet murmurs are a little louder. Though he is hidden under Barty's cloak from Sirius and Lupin, he's pretty sure that the house-elf will see him plain as day. He hears her squeaky voice whisper out, "who's there?" sending Regulus further down the hallway. In his panic over being caught he stumbles into the only room with an open door.

_Oh god!_

Regulus squeezes his eyes shut tight against the scene in front of him.

_Wait a minute! Was Lupin wearing a ...dress?_

One eye opens to confirm this horror, and is immediately snapped shut.

"Masters?" comes the house-elf's voice from the hallway.

Regulus can feel the panic in his stomach like a stone that refuses to settle in a torrential creek. He is about to get outed by his brother's elf- in his brother's bedroom- while his brother is doing something filthy.

"Not now, Lolly," says Sirius. His tone is firm, but his voice is lower and grittier than Regulus has ever heard it. "Just pretend like the door is closed and leave us alone."

Lupin makes a sound like a whimper; like he's in pain, and Regulus opens his eyes to see if his brother is hurting him.

That is not exactly what is happening. Regulus is pretty sure that what he is witnessing is a reenactment of page fourteen from that damnable book his brother and Lupin came up with for him. Regulus is disgusted and scandalized. He immediately closes his eyes. There is nowhere for him to run, stuck between that damned elf and his brother and Lupin engaging in... chapter three.

Regulus abandons his grip on the cloak to stick his fingers in his ears, though he is still hidden. Not only does he not want to see, he doesn't want to hear either.

"Easy," he hears his brother say in a tone far more tender than he used on the elf. The fingers in his ears help to mute the sound, but they don't block it out entirely. Regulus is in hell.

"Do that again," pleads Lupin. Regulus wishes they would shut up.

Though he can barely distinguish the wet sound of Sirius' mouth and tongue doing ..._things_... he would rather not even think about, Regulus hears it all the same. Lupin moans again, a greedy, wanton sound that makes Regulus feel ill. How can his brother put his mouth there? Didn't he know what that part of the body was normally used for?

"God, yes," whimpers Lupin. Regulus wishes he could sing a monotonous, "la, la, la, la, la" to drown out what the fingers in his ears won't. He can't, and he doesn't, and simply resigns himself to sit stock-still and endure this as best he can.

"Like that, vixen?" asks Sirius. There is amusement in that husky tone.

_Wait... **vixen**?_

"I want you inside me," demands Lupin. "You're taking too long!"

Regulus really agrees; this has already gone on far too long.

Instead of complying, though, Regulus only hears more of that same wet sound from before, and then more whimpering from Lupin. Figures that his brother wouldn't do as he was asked.

Next he hears the sound of bodies shifting, and he panics, fearful that they will draw closer to him. Regulus opens his eyes for one brief, agonizing moment. Lupin has moved, the dress hitched up higher around his waist, and his legs are spread wider with his bottom raised higher into the air. He is pressing back into Sirius' face, which is lost between Lupin's cheeks. Sirius has got one arm reaching between Lupin's legs and it is moving slowly, rhythmically. Regulus snaps his eyes shut once again, and stifles a whimper (of horror) of his own.

"Please, Pads," moans Lupin.

Why can't these two have sex in silence like any self-respecting person ought to? It was dirty, and was supposed to be carried out in shame.

"You want my cock, do you?" ask Sirius.

Regulus would like to die; right now- this very minute. He's certain he'll never be the same.

"Do it already," insists Lupin. "S'been so long; missed you."

"Yeah," says Sirius. "I missed you, too."

Regulus finally feels a bit of hope. They are clearly nearing the end. Barty didn't take very long once he was inside, and Regulus assumes it will be the same with Sirius.

Regulus hears Sirius whisper some word, and then Lupin makes a little sound like a squeak.

"Always so bloody cold," gasps Lupin.

"Feels like, whatsit, Aqua-Fresh in the arse," agrees Sirius. He sounds amused again. "I'll fix that in just a minute, though."

"Now," says Lupin. "No waiting!"

"No," refuses Sirius. "S'been over a month, vixen. You need to be prepared; I want you to enjoy this."

"Hurry, then," grits out Lupin, and then moans again.

Regulus is past understanding what these two are even up to at this point. They are so frustrating and infuriating by simply not getting to it, getting it over with, and falling asleep so he can leave. This is just ridiculous.

"Oh, _that_," groans Lupin. "Come on, one more."

"Patience," says Sirius. Regulus can hear the tension straining his voice. "You're a lot tighter than you were a month ago."

"I don't care," whinges Lupin.

"You will when I'm splitting you open," returns Sirius.

At least that Regulus understands, the splitting apart, the feeling of pain so overwhelming it blocks out all rational thought, making it hard to concentrate and not simply throw Barty off of him.

"That's some ego you've got," teases Lupin. A low snarl rolls out of Sirius, and then Lupin's breath hitches sharply.

"We do this the right way, or not all," growls Sirius. Apparently whatever point he had been trying to make was made as Lupin had no snappy return this time.

Regulus can hear them moving on the bed once again. He is smart enough this time not to open his eyes.

"That's two," says Lupin. "That's enough; I'm good. Come on."

"One more," replies Sirius. "Stop making this hard for me."

Lupin laughs, and the sound is so full of want that it makes Regulus blush. So far, he's done okay with not reddening profusely, but there is something new in both their tones, a sense of growing anticipation and intimacy. Regulus can hear it, get a sense of it, but not really fully grasp it.

"Alright," says Sirius. "I think you're ready."

"Bloody right, I'm ready," says Lupin. "Quit handling me like I'm made of glass."

Sirius does something then that Regulus cannot see because his eyes are closed, but it makes Lupin sigh with obvious delight.

"I will handle you however I please, Moony. You're too impatient tonight; you're always telling me that I never take my time and then when I do, you complain about that, too."

Despite his obvious and well-placed feeling of horror, there is something about this that strikes Regulus as very odd. After the incident in the pool shed that he and Barty cannot discuss, Regulus was not left with a sense of eagerness to repeat the act. It had hurt, terribly in fact, and there had been little about Barty that had been tender or slow. Not like Sirius was being with Lupin. Regulus feels a two-fold sense of disquiet over this. One has to do with his own experiences in this area; experiences that Sirius assures him "everyone does" and that he is "supposed to enjoy." His sex life has either been an unmitigated disaster, or it was painful beyond belief. The other is in regards to something far more subtle that he has a harder time nailing down, or even getting a good feel for what it is.

Regulus doesn't want this sort of intimacy with Sirius. At all. And yet, there is something about Sirius here that is gentle and tender, something Regulus has never known his brother to be. Regulus can see it every time he snaps his eyes open; can hear it in every hushed utterance. Clearly his brother is capable of being more than just a brutish arse. Would it kill Sirius to be just a little bit nicer to his younger sibling? He thought Sirius incapable of this kind of sensitivity, but now that Regulus sees it for himself, he feels a bitterness he doesn't completely understand. The context is confusing the issue, and making it difficult for Regulus to determine what his feelings are. Though to be fair, mostly what he feels is traumatized.

"No, no," says Lupin, and now his voice is the patient, tender one. "Not complain, love. Never think that."

The two men on the bed are quiet for a moment, and Regulus can't imagine what that must be about. Then Regulus hears Sirius open his belt and then the zip is lowered. Next there is a soft whooshing as Sirius' trousers drop to the floor. Every nerve, every sense Regulus has is telling him to bolt, but he can't. If his brother knew he had been here this long, Regulus is certain that Sirius would kill him. It isn't like he wanted this, or asked for this. His only hope is that it will all be over very, very soon.

"Can't believe you stayed dressed this long," says Remus. His voice is a languid purr.

"Tonight was about you, Moony," murmurs Sirius. There is something weighting Sirius' tone that Regulus can't name.

There is another long pause.

"Thank you," whispers Lupin.

“And this is what you want? Not-”

“Yes,” Lupin interjects. “I want this.”

Regulus wants to disappear; this is too private, too intimate for him to be witnessing. He hears the creak of the bed and yet another sigh from Lupin and then for a moment all is quiet.

"Easy," says Sirius. Regulus can tell he's trying to sound smooth, or perhaps soothing, but Sirius' voice is cracked by a hard pant on the last syllable. "Almost... ohhhh, _Remus_...."

Lupin is panting too, and then he whimpers, and this time Regulus is sure he hears actual pain.

"You alright," asks Sirius. His voice is little more than a growling rumble.

"Just- just a moment," whispers Lupin.

Regulus sympathizes, and can't imagine why Lupin lets his brother do this.

The two of them are quiet and still except for the sound of their breathing which is now considerably more ragged.

"Alright," says Lupin. "Move."

"You su-"

"Go!"

And then the sounds only get worse. Regulus doesn't need eyes to see what is happening. Through the fingers stuffed in his ears, he can hear the bodies moving together. Lupin is moaning now, wanton, as is Sirius. His brother's words become an unconnected string of praise and profanity. Regulus cannot understand this. It sounded like Lupin is _enjoying_ this!

"More!" demands Lupin. "Harder, Sirius! Please!"

Regulus, surprised to the point of being dumbfounded, opens his eyes. His brother is laying over Lupin’s back, one arm holding him around the chest, the other stroking his cock. His mouth is by Lupin's ear, and he is murmuring a wealth of filth and praise like Regulus has never heard. Lupin's arms are tensed and supporting them both as their hips work together. Sirius rocks his pelvis in long, quick strokes, and for every push, Lupin presses back in perfect time. Both of their faces are effused with pleasure and concentration. It is the most intimate thing Regulus has ever seen. He immediately snaps his eyes shut as the burn of humiliation floods his cheeks.

It isn't much longer before Lupin’s and Sirius’ moans grow louder, their breath harsher and more ragged. Then Lupin cries out his brother’s name, long and low, more like a moan really, and a moment later Sirius does the same, bellowing Lupin's name in tones of anguished pleasure. The bed creaks again as two bodies collapse against the mattress with an audible 'thump'. There is some movement amid the slowing of their breath, and then the quiet exchange of endearments and declarations of love.

Regulus holds still, feeling smaller and dirtier than he ever has in his whole life, and really, that was saying something. He hears his brother and Lupin murmuring to each other, and then what sounds to be sheets and covers drawn up around them. They talk a little more, their speech quieter, with less effort behind it. Not long after that they stop talking altogether, and their breathing deepens. And then someone, Regulus thinks it sounds like Lupin, snores.

He doesn't trust it just yet, and holds still a little longer, glad the worst of this night is finally over. When it is clear that both his brother and Lupin are sound asleep, Regulus rises. He hasn't put up with this for nothing, and gives the room a quick look around. There on the low dresser is his sketchbook. He curses Sirius in his mind, snatches the book up, and goes to the bedroom door. He peers down the hallway, and not seeing the elf Lolly, tiptoes to the sitting room.

When he gets there, Regulus squeaks. Lolly is standing in front of the fireplace with her arms crossed. She is glaring at Regulus. The invisibility cloak does him no good.

"He stole my sketchbook!" hisses Regulus petulantly to the elf. "It wasn't my fault!"

Lolly's glare doesn't lose any of its fire as she steps to the side to let Regulus through. She doesn't say anything, and that is almost worse. Regulus swallows, because he knows she is going to tell his brother. He grabs a handful of powder and leaves as quickly as he can; his heart pounding.

Sirius is going to kill him.


End file.
